Chapter 8-3 – Is That Just My Illusion?

"Assist kill acknowledged."

"You have slain an enemy. (38/300)"

"You have slain an enemy. (72/300)"

"You have slain an enemy. (103/300)"

"You have slain an enemy. (151/300)"

"You have slain an enemy. (274/300)"

"You have slain an enemy. (367/300)"

"You no longer need to kill."

"You have slain an enemy. (398/300)"

"You no longer need to kill."

"You have slain an enemy. (422/300)"

"You no longer need to kill."

"You have slain an enemy. (449/300)"

"You no longer need to kill."

"You have slain an enemy. (501/300)"

"You no longer need to kill."

"Hostile target Rueiri has died. Hostile relations have ended."

"The alliance between hostile targets has ended."

"Main Quest - Massacre completed."

The red text scrolled quickly, then abruptly stopped at the last line. Rueiri's death, main quest completed... The words gathered and dispersed like grains of sand, reflecting in my dazed pupils.

Thanks to the chaos I caused in the temple and the support I received from Adrian, I completed the second main quest with little effort, but I still felt uneasy. Normally, games end when the main quest is completed. Is it the same for this game?

"You have completed the main quest and gained 3000 experience points."

"A special growth buff has been applied."

"You have reached level 39. (Title: The Devil's First Lover)"

"One main quest remains."

What? Only one left? What happens when the main quest ends? What is the next main quest? After murders and massacres, what's next?

I didn’t expect the main quest to end with just two, but each one was so brutal and overwhelming that it felt like too much. I wished they would at least tell me the theme of the next main quest instead of surprising me, but the red text disappeared without giving more details.

This crazy game, you can’t even talk or negotiate with a non-living system.

"Hilda."

The sound of footsteps on the grass and a familiar voice came. He climbed the temple stairs and approached me. Despite having just killed over 500 people, he looked clean and tidy, with a bright smile that could lighten the dark night.

It seemed as if Adrian had completed the main quest, not me... Wait, I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him up close.

"Why... are you crying, sir?"

It's easy to tell if someone is sad just by their expression, but the reason I asked was because Adrian, who was smiling as if he were the happiest person in the world, was shedding tears. At first, I wondered why his cheeks were glistening, but upon closer inspection, I realized it was because of the tears.

He bent his long legs and sat in front of me. Tears pooled in his deep eyes, sparkling like shards of glass as they fell. If it weren’t for his smile directed at me, I would have thought it was raining only on Adrian. Seeing him made me even sadder, and I frowned deeply.

"Why are you crying..."

"I'm not crying, Hilda."

"Are you sad?"

"......"

Adrian had a puzzled expression, as if he didn't understand why I was asking. He wouldn’t know why he was crying if he didn’t even realize he was crying. His happy smile was all the more pitiful, as if his sorrow and joy were completely separate.

Adrian might deny it, but I thought his tears were likely because of Rueiri. A young boy who shattered his own soul to save his mother wouldn’t be okay after killing his father. Though he had said he was nothing more than dust and couldn't be considered alive, it seemed he still had emotional ties. Given that they were intertwined as one when I saw them through the "Eyes of the Seer," my guess was probably right.

"Hilda, why are you..."

"Yes?"

"Why are you..."

I was thinking of comforting him and taking him home, but suddenly Adrian became strange. He kept anxiously asking why, like someone cornered.

Why, what? What about me? I opened my eyes wide in confusion, and Adrian suddenly grabbed at the air beside my elbow.

Huh, what's this? Was he trying to catch a mosquito? Even while crying, he's such a good young master, protecting me from mosquito bites.

"Why... won't it come off?"

Was it not a mosquito? Watching him open and close his hand, I awkwardly stared at him. What was he looking at, pale as if he had seen a ghost?

A ghost... could it really be a ghost? I got scared. Considering the recent massacre in the temple, it seemed likely that at least one soul would follow us. Besides, isn’t this game in the horror genre? They could’ve sprinkled in some ghosts for flavor.

"Is there something next to me... Is it a ghost?" I gathered my courage and asked, but Adrian didn't answer. He just kept waving his hand in the air, as if trying to catch something.

Oh my God, is it really a ghost? But let's stay calm. There's a demon by my side, right? No matter how formidable a vengeful spirit is, it can't possibly defeat Satan. Adrian wouldn't leave me haunted by a ghost.

"This can't be, this can't be happening, it's just impossible..." 

Gasp, could the exorcism ritual not be working? His pale face became even paler, and his anxiety increased. Considering how composed he usually was, this was an ominous sign.

When his hand, which had been waving in the air, suddenly dropped, I turned pale as well. Could it be that the demon lost to the ghost? Did the exorcism fail?

He slumped like a puppet with its strings cut, blinking slowly. The tears that had been flowing non-stop had stopped at some point. He looked completely broken, like a malfunctioning machine.

"Are you okay? You don't look well."

It seemed like it wasn't about the ghost anymore. I carefully shook his arm. Come to think of it, we're right in front of a crime scene, and we shouldn't be lingering here. If the authorities came because of Lilith's curse, Adrian might die.

"Hey, we should head back to the mansion now."

"......"

"Adrian, Adrian! Are you listening to me? Pull yourself together. We shouldn't be here right now. It's late, and we have a long way to go, so let's go."

"......Hilda, don't go."

What is he saying now? As I urged him to get up, Adrian suddenly grabbed my sleeve. His face was half-covered in shadow, making it look oddly dual-natured.

"Don't go."

His hand gripping my sleeve was trembling. I was so taken aback that I momentarily forgot what to say.

"Adrian, we can't stay here."

"Don't go. You can't go."

"We need to get to the mansion. If someone sees us, it'll be a big problem."

Was the incident with his father that shocking? Despite my urging, Adrian still clung to my sleeve, refusing to move.

Instead, the surroundings changed. I had just told him we needed to go to the mansion and closed my eyes for a moment, but the air had changed. I looked around and saw that we were now at the darkened Palzgraff mansion.

"Wait... Did you just do that?"

"......"

Earlier, he had simply brought us from the underground to the ground level, so I hadn't thought much of it. But now, he had transported us a great distance in an instant?

"Oh no, this isn't the time for this. Can you wait here for a moment? I'll just take Emily to her quarters. I can't leave her on the ground after everything she's been through."

"......"

"Um, to take Emily, you'll need to let go of my sleeve."

Maybe he didn't hear me. He didn't budge even when I spoke, so I gently pried his hand off. His hand trembled in mid-air, looking pained, as if I had ripped something that was supposed to be attached. But I couldn't leave Emily lying on the ground any longer, so I turned away and carried her to her quarters.

When I returned after laying Emily in bed, Adrian was still standing there like a puppy abandoned in the rain. It always felt awkward to see him waiting in front of the servants' quarters.

"Are you okay? You've been out of it for a while now."

"......"

"Did the Count say something to you? You came out crying, and now you're just standing there, exhausted... I'm worried."

"......"

"Well, never mind. Let's get back to your room. I'll help you."

He didn't seem physically unwell, but he had been acting strange ever since we left the temple. His face looked as distraught as a drunk who had just gambled away a prized set of equipment.

"Adrian."

When I held his hand, which seemed like it was about to fall apart, his eyes finally regained a faint focus. It seemed something had indeed happened between him and the Count while I wasn't looking. What did that man say to him?

"The mansion is so quiet, isn't it? It must be because it's a holiday. Everyone must have left early. It's so dark and quiet. It feels like it's just the two of us here."

"......"

"Ah, I'm scared. Didn't you hear a wolf howling just now? The mansion feels scarier than that place we just came from."

Perhaps it was because we had come from a scene of massacre, but the familiar mansion felt strangely eerie. The silence and darkness made it feel even more ominous. As we walked through the dark halls, the only sounds were our footsteps. The wind rattled the window frames, and occasionally, we heard an owl hooting.

I was so scared that I started babbling to him, but there was no response. Talking to a wall would have been less embarrassing. When we got to the room, it became even quieter. This was really strange.

"Do you need help changing your clothes?"

"......"

"Um, if you don't want that, I'll change the bed sheets and leave. You must be tired after everything that's happened. Let's talk more tomorrow after you've had a good rest."

I must have annoyed him with my chatter. Still, I wanted to tidy up before I left, but he didn't even give me any instructions. Okay, I'll light the candles, change the bed sheets, and leave quickly. I had just decided on this course of action and was about to head to the bed when Adrian strode over and grabbed my arm.

"Do you need something...?"

"Hilda, don't go."

His voice came out hoarse and cracked. Just lifting his head slowly to look at me filled the room with a strange tension. It felt like a beast that had been crouching and holding its breath was slowly starting to move.

"Hilda, don't go."

His voice was lower and more distinct now. Don't go? I looked at him in surprise, my eyes wide. The candlelight flickered over his finely sculpted face, casting sharp shadows. As I parted my lips, his grip on my arm tightened. It felt as heavy as if two or three iron chains had been wrapped around me.

"What do you mean, don't go? If you mean the quarters, I have to go there. Do you need me to do something else?"

"Hilda, don't go."

Was he saying he needed something or not? He just kept repeating the same words like a parrot. His eyes, half-shadowed and dark, followed me softly and persistently. I forced myself to respond calmly.

"Why? Why are you saying this?"

"Hilda, don't go."

"Ugh, stop repeating the same thing. If I don't go, when will you sleep? We've had a long day, and you need rest."

"Hilda, don't go."

"Fine, fine. I'll be generous today. Since the mansion is empty, I'll sleep in the next room tonight. But once the holiday is over, we need to think about this seriously. Symbolically, it's not appropriate for me to use the room next to yours... Not that I think you have any improper intentions, of course."

"So... you're saying you'll leave? You're leaving my side?"

"What? Of course, I'll be leaving this room. But the next room is just a wall away. If you need anything, you can call me in a minute. But if I'm asleep, please don't wake me up. I'm tired today too."

"You said you liked me."

"W-why are you bringing that up all of a sudden? You're making me embarrassed."

"You said you loved me. Didn't you? Please, tell me I'm right."

His desperate plea made me blush and then pause. Why did it feel like we were talking past each other?

"I can't let you go."

His hand that had been gripping my arm slowly moved down to cover my hand. His fingers, both beautiful and pleasant to touch, ran across the back of my hand and held it. Things that look good usually feel good too.

"But Adrian, it's really late now, and it's not practical for me to stay here. I might doze off, and I can't sleep with just a pillow..."

"I'm sorry, Hilda. I'm sorry."

"All maps outside the mansion have been closed."

I was puzzled by his sudden apology when a dramatic sound effect and white text appeared. There shouldn't be any notifications at this time, so it was strange. As I absentmindedly read the notification, my babbling mouth closed on its own.

All maps outside the mansion... what?

"I can't do anything else."

"All maps within the mansion have been closed."

As if a play was about to start, the lights of the world went out all at once, leaving us in darkness, except for Adrian's room.

"I'm in pain, Hilda."

Adrian desperately whispered, holding my frozen hand. I was the one experiencing the unimaginable, but he was the one acting like a lost child. His hand was cold and trembling as if he had just come in from the dead of winter.

"It hurts, it's hard. I'm lonely. It feels like I'll die from the pain."

"Adrian's affection level has increased to level 4."

"The ability to unlock skills has been taken away."

"Skills can no longer be used."

"I'm in so much pain I might die alone. And you're going to leave me?"

"Adrian's affection level has increased to level 5."

"The authority to increase affection has been taken away."

"Affection can no longer be increased."

"You wouldn't want that, right? You said you liked me. You said you loved me. Right? So stay with me. If you're not here, I might really die."

"Adrian's affection level has increased to level 6."

"The authority to make requests has been taken away."

"Requests can no longer be made."

He tried to meet my gaze by lowering his head, but I could only stare into the air with my mouth open. What... is this? As the notifications with dramatic sound effects appeared one after another, the skill, affection, and request icons at the top were all crossed out.

What is this? What’s going on? I struggled to turn my frozen brain over and over in confusion.

I definitely saw earlier that Adrian's affection level had increased. Until now, the notifications I saw were always "someone's affection level has increased to X." But why was the subject Adrian this time? It seemed like Adrian had voluntarily increased his affection level, and the system had taken control because of it.

When I raised his affection to level 2 with compliments and pencil gifts, level 3 had somehow increased without my knowledge. Did Adrian raise it on his own without telling me? Can he control it at will? How?

I had always thought that raising affection levels meant they would feel good emotions and help with survival, in line with the meaning of the word "affection" (好感).

But that wasn't the case. With Adrian, each time his affection level increased, he gained a new system control ability. Levels 2 and 3 allowed him to open and close maps, level 4 affected skills, level 5 controlled affection actions, and level 6 had authority over requests.

So what about level 7? Or 8? The thought of Adrian potentially taking over the system made my head spin.

If I had known this at levels 2 or 3, I would have stopped trying to increase his affection. But now, it was all done. Somehow, Adrian could manipulate his own affection level directly.

Even after piecing together the situation, it was shocking. This couldn't be real.

I forcibly let go of his cold hand and walked to the window. Normally, I would see the blue garden and faintly glowing streetlights, but now it was pitch black as if a curtain had been drawn. I couldn't even open the window with my strength.

I couldn't leave the mansion, couldn't talk to anyone else, not even the affection target. My world was confined to Adrian's room, without sunlight or wind, with only Adrian in sight.

"The night is long, Hilda."

"......"

"Because of me, you feel cold. You suffer from nightmares."

「WARNING! External interference detected.」

「FATAL ERROR- FailedOperationException: Operation interrupted.」

「FATAL ERROR- FailedRecovery: Recovery failed.」

「FATAL ERROR- FailedThreadRestart: Thread restart failed.」

"So I'll keep you warm. I'll stop the nightmares."

「WARNING!」

「WARNING!」

「WARNING!」

「An unknown error has occurred. The system cannot be restored.」

"The nights without you are too long. I don't think I can endure it tonight."

"......"

"So please come to me. If I pull you, it will hurt."

The lights that brightened the system flickered and then died completely, like a power outage. The text on the screen wavered, becoming blurry and then clear again, as I slowly turned my stiff head.

A long, black shadow from Adrian's feet slithered up the walls, creeping into every corner until my vision was completely taken over by darkness.

Wow, this is like a horror movie...

"Hilda?"

Adrian's lips curved gently upward. He seemed to be trying his best to look human.

My eyes suddenly caught his outstretched hand. His wrist, visible under his neatly arranged sleeve, had a red wound that looked much more vivid than before. It meant that most of his strength had returned. It would be easier for him to handle a person as he pleased. If he wanted to, he could break all my limbs and keep me beside him. Even though it was hard to believe, it seemed he could even hack the game system.

I had saved a nearly dead demon in half-corpse mode, and now he was hacking. This was ridiculous.

“What is this…”

I wanted to get angry and ask why he was isolating me, but I couldn't. It wasn't because I was scared. When he saw me and the murderous intent dropped from 92% to 0%, all today's fear had flown away.

It was his expression that made me feel like if I even hinted at refusing, he might die. His increasingly pale complexion, the red traces of crying around his eyes, and his trembling hands made him look pitiful.

Who should really be afraid here? It was absurd.

"Please, Hilda..."

He pleaded desperately. I sighed deeply. It would have been better if he had threatened to kill me if I didn't stay by his side.

So, for some reason, Adrian was feeling extreme anxiety at the thought of me leaving, and without saying anything, he isolated me from the world. Now that I think about it, it’s even more absurd and frustrating.

I have never chosen anyone other than him, so why doesn’t he trust me?

“Just come a little closer.”

What can I do to make him trust me? Will staying by his side today make things better?

The moment I took a step toward him, with my back to the window, the focus returned to his blue eyes. The pupils that had been trembling with anxiety stabilized.

“A little closer…”

“…”

“Just a little more.”

I approached him, feeling as if I were entering a giant cave. He watched nervously until I got close enough, then grabbed my wrist as soon as I was within reach.

The warmth from his hand surged through me, and I could feel his heightened excitement. It was as if he would never let go again, holding me tightly in his arms. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I muttered an excuse.

“It’s cold today, so I thought I’d let you warm me up.”

As Adrian had said, the night was long.

“Don’t make me have nightmares.”

“I won’t.” He whispered urgently, pulling me closer. I was drawn straight to the bed.

Meanwhile, Olivia was finding solace in the small pleasures of life. The servants at the Palzgraff main house had likely gossiped about her demotion for two weeks, but they didn’t know the whole story.

Of course, being employed as a servant in a prestigious mansion was a great honor, offering good pay and benefits. However, even among lower-status servants, their own social hierarchies and covert factional fights formed. The most common conflicts arose among servants of similar rank and tenure, usually until positions like butler, head servant, or chief of various workrooms were settled.

Olivia, having received thorough training at a servant vocational school since she was young, became the head servant attending the Countess closely. Despite many peers joining the same year, her quick and accurate work, coupled with her skill in not offending her masters, got her noticed by the butler early on.

She was on a successful path, receiving envy and jealousy from others, until a recent incident brought her down. It was Adrian's birthday party incident.

On the surface, it seemed she was tasked with caring for the fallen Countess, but she knew it was a demotion. The Countess, practically a living corpse, would never return to the main house and was not expected to survive long. Essentially, Olivia had been fired.

“Madam, I’ve brought fresh milk today. I didn’t forget the lamb you requested either. Ah! I also brought some accessories from a famous jeweler in the village of Ruhelen. Would you like to take a look?”

But these days, Olivia felt particularly at ease. Despite the mansion being in the middle of nowhere, requiring five days by carriage to reach from the main house, it was the perfect place to enjoy a leisurely life in nature. Unlike the main house, the villa lacked nearby facilities, relying on occasional visiting peddlers who brought various unfamiliar items from far regions.

“Look at this. Here, here. I’ve brought some things that I’m sure the Madam will like. A decorative gun… and this. A ring with a sapphire as big as an eyeball. And a brooch. Don’t you think the Madam will like these?”

The peddler, having somehow heard about the noble lady staying at the villa, would occasionally present items he imagined she would like. Although not all items caught her eye, some were indeed to the Countess’s taste. Still, Olivia never bought anything. It didn’t make sense to show such items to a woman who wasn’t even conscious.

“This necklace looks quite nice.”

Despite her thoughts, Olivia found herself scanning for accessories that might suit Priscilla. A white gold necklace with an amethyst cut into a flower shape. Its shimmering purple resembled the violets frequently placed in vases at the main house.

“Oh! You have a great eye. This is a special piece that I don’t show to just anyone…”

“Is it not for sale?”

“No, no! Of course, it’s for sale! Think of it as a gesture of goodwill to the Madam. It would be an honor if you considered me for future purchases.”

“Are you saying you’re giving it for free?”

“As I said, it’s a goodwill gesture.”

The peddler, who had been boasting about the necklace’s worth, was taken aback by Olivia’s straightforward question. The necklace wasn’t cheap, but the potential profit from having a noble lady as a regular customer was worth more. Olivia’s indifferent response suggested that she didn’t value such deals highly.

“Thank you for today. Leave the meat and milk over there. How much do I owe you?”

“3,040 gold. It’s almost the same as buying directly from the market. Considering the convenience of having it delivered to the mansion, it’s practically a revolutionary price. I understand the honor of serving such a noble household. So, please mention me to the Madam…”

“I will. Keep the change for your travel expenses.”

“Thank you, thank you!”

Despite adding only 60 gold to make it 3,100, the peddler bowed deeply. Olivia knew he had marked up the price by 200 to 300 gold, but she let it slide, considering the benefits he provided.

2 PM. At the main house, Priscilla usually enjoyed her afternoon tea around this time. There was no schedule here, but Olivia faithfully maintained all the routines from the main house. She set out the tea Priscilla never drank, the books she never opened, and decorated with flowers she never looked at.

Someday, if Priscilla miraculously recovered and regained the will to live, she would be ready for whatever she desired.

Olivia carried Priscilla’s favorite rooibos tea and snacks upstairs.

“Madam, I’ve brought your afternoon tea. May I come in?”

Knock, knock. Even knowing she wouldn’t get a response, Olivia maintained her daily routine of knocking and waiting for permission. Counting to five silently, she carefully opened the door and entered.

The Madam greeted her as always, lying as if dead.

So, she couldn’t wake up today either.

Olivia felt a pang of sorrow but continued her duties with care. She set the tray on the table by the window and arranged everything for a pleasant afternoon, even though she knew she would soon clear it all away untouched.

Even after decorating with flowers the Madam liked, Olivia waited by her side, just as she would during tea time at the main house.

Since coming to the villa, Priscilla had remained in this state. The doctor visited daily to administer nutritional fluids, but Priscilla, who couldn’t even drink water on her own, became increasingly emaciated. She had never been plump, but now she was almost skeletal. Even if she regained consciousness, Olivia doubted she could stand on her own.

The doctor sighed more heavily with each visit. The wound from the stab had miraculously healed, but the real problem was her will to live. She had no desire to survive, so keeping her alive was the best they could do. The doctor left this morning, sighing that even that would become harder.

[ hey there, sorry for disturbing your reading! I'm just here to make sure you are reading this from my website (https://tlbyviridescent.blogspot.com/p/surviving-as-maid-in-horror-game.html) and not somewhere else where it got reposted without my permission... that's it! ]

Olivia recalled the morning not long ago when Priscilla miraculously opened her eyes.

“My goodness, Madam. You’re awake? You’re awake?”

“Olivia…”

“Yes, Madam. Yes! I’m here. My goodness, I’ll fetch the doctor immediately!”

“Olivia, why am I still alive?”

“…”

“When can I die? When can I finally die?”

“Madam…”

“Why can’t I die…”

With a face drained of all energy, looking like she was on the brink of death, she whispered in a voice that seemed to waver between life and death. And before Olivia could respond, she closed her eyes again. That was the first and last time Priscilla had regained consciousness since arriving at the villa.

The moment was fleeting, and I couldn't deliver the letter that a girl named Hilda, Adrian's personal maid, had entrusted to me. Even if Priscilla regained consciousness, I wasn't sure if she would be able to see it. She seemed as fragile as if she might collapse if a speck of dust fell on her head.

No matter how many times I read it, I couldn't understand its contents, but I couldn't help but worry that it might shock Priscilla's fragile mind. It didn't seem to have any ill intentions, though.

I recalled the bustling maid who had hurriedly approached me, begging me to deliver the letter. She had been so desperate that I was nervous about its importance, but to my surprise, it was short and almost meaningless. Perhaps it was written in a way only the lady could understand.

Given how desperately she wanted the letter delivered, she might be eagerly waiting for a reply. Finishing today's tea time a bit earlier than usual, I took the time to write a response.

"To Hilda,

Since the lady came down to the villa, her condition has worsened, and I haven't been able to deliver your letter. However, she did regain consciousness briefly a while ago. I'll make sure to deliver it at the next opportunity.

Olivia."

I carefully finished the letter with neat handwriting and placed it in an envelope. This letter would be delivered when a worker from the main house came next. Although Hilda might be disappointed, thinking it was a reply from the lady, it was better than her waiting endlessly.

"You're fired, you bastard!"

Papers scattered everywhere as Inspector Mark hurled documents in front of Harrison. It was a report on the investigation of a demon-worshipping cult that had been assigned to Harrison before his suspension. The report was nothing but nonsense, a useless pile of paper. Despite presenting this, Harrison remained unfazed, not even blinking an eye. That damned bastard.

"What is this? I've been waiting for over a month with no progress report, and now you bring me this crap? Did you not find anything, or are you withholding information?"

Either way, it was infuriating. On top of Harrison's recent trouble of attacking a civilian during an investigation, his work attitude was abysmal. I wondered if it was worth keeping him around. But for some reason, Harrison remained indifferent. I had expected him to beg for forgiveness, but his nonchalance only made me feel awkward.

"Inspector, Inspector! Please calm down and listen to me."

Jeffrey, who shouldn't even be here, tried to intervene.

"Calm down? Are you mocking me? This is the report you bring? Just quit, you bastard. You can't even do your job right. From now on, you're banned from field investigations! If you need to investigate, do it through a liaison officer!"

"And how many bribes have you taken, Inspector?"

"What?"

"If you're talking about the suspect I strangled, he was indeed the real culprit."

Both Mark and Jeffrey turned their gazes to Harrison, looking both shocked and appalled.

"Can't you tell by looking at him? Or were you just pretending not to notice? He had no alibi and pointed out suspects as if he had prepared beforehand, not to mention his eyes were constantly shifting."

"Inspector, you can't just declare someone the culprit based on that alone..."

Jeffrey interjected cautiously, sensing something was off. Mark, unable to contain his anger, threw an ashtray.

"Shut up with that nonsense! If we arrested and executed people based on a few suspicious signs, everyone would be dead!"

"Maybe that would be better. No more crime, no more victims."

"What? You're out of your mind..."

"At least there would be no more crimes, no victims, and no grieving families."

The suddenness of Harrison's remark stunned everyone into silence.

I suddenly remembered when Harrison first became an officer. His sister had been killed by a serial killer, and he had vowed to hunt down every criminal, his eyes blazing with determination. Back then, his resolve was so palpable you could almost touch it.

Every year, hundreds of new recruits joined the force, but Harrison stood out. He arrested criminals with relentless dedication, sacrificing his personal life for his work. Senior officers resented him at first but eventually had to acknowledge his abilities. His anger and disdain for criminals were so intense that he was almost feared. Eventually, the unspoken agreement among officers was that "Harrison is a different breed; we shouldn't compare ourselves to him."

About a year later, Harrison stormed into the police department, furious.

"Inspector! Why was he released? How can he walk out of here free?"

"Sergeant Harrison, come sit down."

Harrison's dream of a world where all criminals were justly punished was unrealistic. Despite his efforts, this country was a monarchy, with ultimate power resting with the king. The king's authority extended to the nobles, who often had protection from the law. Even if there were suspicions against a noble, investigating them could result in a royal inquiry, turning the entire police department upside down. Knowing this, criminals often paid off as many nobles as possible, creating a protective network. Consequently, only the powerless and penniless citizens ended up behind bars.

"This isn't right. This isn't what I wanted. Surrendering like this... It's not justice."

But Harrison refused to understand these practical limits. He couldn't accept that for true justice, the monarchy itself would have to fall. He was slapped from all sides when he suggested that the downfall of the monarchy might be better than criminals wielding unchecked power.

When he was a sergeant, he clung to hope, but as he climbed the ranks and saw more of the world, he realized the walls he couldn't break. It took countless sacrifices to reach this understanding. Each time criminals were released and victims multiplied, he grew more deranged. He began torturing suspects for confessions and was desperate to imprison anyone based on the slightest suspicion.

As time went on, his arrest rates plummeted, and recently, he had no achievements to show. Mark assumed Harrison's rage and passion had dulled with age. After all, youthful vigor and idealism often give way to compromise with time.

But today, he realized he had been completely mistaken. Instead of being dulled, his sharpness had only increased. His piercing gaze looked as if it could kill someone. Marc began to suspect that his once youthful determination was now being channeled into a dangerous direction.

This friend will cause big trouble if left unchecked.

"…Leave your police badge and go, Harrison."

"Commissioner!"

"You need a break. Take some time to clear your head and go down to the countryside for a while."

Jeffrey, standing nearby, was shocked, but Marc's resolve was firm.

He knew Harrison was capable. Even now, if told to catch a criminal, Harrison could bring in a few suspects within hours. 

But those eyes... They gave him a bad feeling. Overflowing with a sense of justice isn't always a good thing in this world. Any further, and it would definitely become dangerous.

This was also for Harrison's sake. Since he wasn't inherently bad, keeping him away from crime for a while might bring him back to his old self. Then, Marc planned to call him back to the precinct. He realized he should have given him a break sooner.

"Fine. I will stop this charade too."

If Harrison had begged on his knees, Marc might have reconsidered. But Harrison's reaction was calm.

"Commissioner!"

"Take care. This is the part where I'm supposed to say thank you for everything, but I can't even say it as a formality. Please understand."

Harrison threw his worn-out police badge into the air and walked out of the precinct. Jeffrey, torn between stopping Marc or Harrison, eventually chased after Harrison.

Bathed in the reddish glow of the sunset, Harrison walked away from the precinct as if he never belonged there. Jeffrey shouted desperately after his lonely figure.

"Commissioner! Are you really leaving like this?"

His urgent voice echoed through the wide alley. Harrison's steps faltered slightly.

"You know I chose to become a police officer because of you! I wanted to be like you! I finally caught up to you, and now you're leaving me behind? Seriously?"

"…"

"Think about all the people who survived because of you! Thanks to your efforts in catching criminals, many people could smile and live in peace. Are you still going to leave?"

"It's all in the past."

"…"

"Jeffrey, don't become like me."

With a voice rough like scraping metal, Harrison spoke and left without any regret. Jeffrey, seeing his idol's fading figure, cried.

Harrison lived in a small, almost uninhabited village next to Lukeville, where the precinct was located. It was a tiny village with fewer than a hundred people passing by in a day. Even within that village, he chose to live in the most secluded place, alone.

Whenever Jeffrey mentioned Harrison's residence, he would ask why Harrison lived alone in such a desolate corner and suggest moving to Lukeville, where an empty apartment was available in his building. But Harrison insisted on staying there.

A dark, dingy stone chamber where no one would visit.

Because it was the perfect place to bring criminals and punish them.

Creak. As he opened the rusty door and entered, he saw a fallen stand. Oh dear, it seems there wasn't enough space. He picked up the fallen stand and placed a severed wrist on its end. Harrison smirked grimly.

"Duncan, you need to stay there for at least four more months."

On the bloodless palm was written:

'DUNKAN, rape and assault, 473.1.12'

His name, crime, and the date of execution.

Harrison placed Duncan's hand back on the stand and looked around the room as if inspecting it. The room was essentially an execution ground and gallows for many criminals. In addition to Duncan's hand, numerous wrists were severed and placed on stands, each palm inscribed with the respective criminal's name, crime, and date of execution.

There was only one executioner—Harrison.

He tried to recall how it all started. The memory was vague now, as much time had passed. The first was a criminal who openly mocked Harrison as he was released after bribing his way out.

"Look, Harrison, wasn't it? You still have that unyielding look in your eyes, but no matter how many times you arrest me, it won't work. We all know that the police are just puppets for the nobles."

"…"

"Haha. Now, I'm off to deal with that bitch who tried to put me in jail. You won't be able to do anything about it, right? Even if you catch me again, I'll just get out. Next time, I'll cut your throat."

Bitch… He had the audacity to say he was going to deal with the woman who tried to have him imprisoned, right in front of a police officer.

At that moment, Harrison felt something inside him collapse.

When he came to, he was holding a brick, and in front of him lay the criminal, dead from a head wound. As he looked coldly at the blood spreading on the floor, one thought crossed his mind.

Too easy.

He wanted to hang the body at the village entrance as a warning, but that would interfere with his future plans. So he only severed the wrist and placed it on a stand. Only he would see it, but this pathetic display seemed fitting for a criminal's end.

He didn't feel any guilt for crossing the line. Seeing the neighbor woman, who was supposed to be his next victim, smiling happily made him feel he hadn't done anything wrong. In fact, it felt like the right thing to do.

This isn't a mistake. This is a chance given by God. They committed unforgivable crimes and didn't receive their rightful punishment, so I simply killed them.

"This is justice."

Thus, he began his spree of killing criminals. As a police officer, picking targets was very easy.

As he accumulated more severed wrists, he replaced the crude wooden sticks with proper stands and began writing the names, crimes, and dates on the palms to remember whose they were. The worse the crime, the longer the wrist had to stay on display, so it was necessary to keep track.

After some time, he would burn the wrists instead of burying them, as rest in peace was too luxurious for criminals. There were rumors of a vigilante who was eliminating criminals, causing both fear and relief among the public.

They were right. For every extreme, there must be an equal and opposite extreme to maintain balance.

This is the correct world. This is justice. This is the right path.

See, by removing the trash, the world is a bit cleaner. Humans can't be fixed. Only when they die can good citizens smile, and only when criminals die can the families of victims reclaim their lives.

Harrison's paradise grew more solid. Like water flowing from high to low, all justice converged towards him.

The more it did, the more people outside his paradise seemed unfair and immoral. He had started by killing only criminals, but now, every suspect seemed guilty. Listening to witnesses felt like hearing liars trying to mock the police, and even ordinary passersby seemed likely to commit crimes eventually.

They all must die. Only then will the world be clean.

"Inspector, have you heard? There's a killer in the area again, targeting only criminals. He cuts off their wrists... What could he possibly want with those? Probably to mock us, the lunatic."

"Why? Thanks to him, our workload is lessened. Shouldn't we be grateful?"

"Hah... I never expected to hear that from you, Inspector. He's a murderer, regardless of who he targets. The fact that he could incite certain citizens makes him even more dangerous. If this goes unchecked, chaos will ensue where everyone justifies killing in the name of their own justice."

"......"

"He's just creating his own sense of justice and indulging in a hero complex. We must never acknowledge his rationale. When we catch him, I'll make sure to tell him straight to his face: you're neither a hero nor a savior, just a murderer."

But the world didn't understand Harrison's noble intentions.

Even Jeffrey, who was the only one to believe in and follow Harrison, pointed fingers at him. It felt as though he was left utterly alone in the wide world, fostering a resentment towards a society that neither understood nor supported his cause.

Jeffrey, you don't get it. This world is rotten, and there's nothing we can do about it. As you continue to chase criminals, you'll inevitably be consumed by unbearable doubt and despair. Only then will you understand how I feel. It's not about playing hero. It's the only way I can find a reason to live.

Though he had no one beside him now, he believed that someday, someone would come to understand his purpose. Perhaps he'd even find comrades to join him.

Harrison looked back at the path he'd walked. It was a long one, far too distant to turn back. A path that had once been pure white, now stained red, flowing like a river of blood. His feet were deeply entrenched in the blood-soaked mire, with no way to pull them out. Despite the gruesome nature of the path, one thing was certain: every step was accompanied by justice.

I'm right. I'm just. This is justice.

Harrison turned away, like a racehorse without a rider, racing towards the end. There was no regret.

His return to the police station that day was a mere coincidence. He was about to go on another criminal hunt when he remembered he'd left his hunting knife at the station. Since it was early morning and no one would be around, he thought he could also grab a few useful guns. He puffed out a thick cloud of cigarette smoke and headed back to the police station.

In front of the station, which he thought would be deserted, a woman with a rough appearance was loitering. She had clearly been through an ordeal, so he approached her. When she asked if he was a police officer, he answered without hesitation. Though he'd been fired today, he had been an inspector just yesterday.

The woman introduced herself as Dolores, a servant of the Palzgraff household, and shared an intriguing story. She claimed that a devil worshiper from the Palzgraff family had knocked her out and intended to offer her as a live sacrifice. Although she didn't initially remember, she vaguely recalled hearing something about taking her to the temple in this very town.

Palzgraff family!

Harrison's eyes lit up. The police had kept quiet, but he'd long suspected the Palzgraff family of being deeply involved in devil worship. There had been a frustrating lack of evidence and witnesses, but now, things were falling into place.

Harrison sternly warned Dolores to keep this information to herself and entered the police station. After swiftly retrieving several guns and small bombs, he headed straight for the temple.

From the outside, the temple appeared serene and holy. It was hard to believe it was the base of devil worshipers. Just in case, he planted bombs around the temple. Unfortunately, a guard spotted him, and in the rush to hide the bombs, he made the mistake of losing his gun.

“Damn it, you fanatic bastards.”

“Need a hand, Inspector?”

He was dragged into the basement, where they kept the sacrifices, and heard an unwelcome voice.

Hilda, wasn’t it? She was the servant who had always shown a strange glint in her eye whenever the Palzgraff viscount was mentioned. What was she doing here? Weren’t the Palzgraff count, viscount, and that suspicious servant all in league together?

"Why are you here? I thought you were in cahoots with the count."

"Why ask? I’m here for the same reason as you."

Despite being in the heart of a devil-worshiping cult, the servant seemed quite calm. She claimed she was here to find her friend, but Harrison wasn’t entirely convinced. Their first meeting hadn't been pleasant, which might explain his distrust. He remembered snatching the cigarette from her mouth and throwing it to the ground when they first met.

He also recalled a recent encounter in an alley that nearly turned troublesome.

He had just killed a notorious criminal and was about to cut off his wrist when a burly man interfered. Although strong, he lacked the experience of someone who had been a police officer for twenty years. Harrison easily subdued him and was about to strangle him when the servant suddenly rammed into him.

A small woman shouldn’t have been able to generate such force, but the unexpected impact pushed him back at least ten meters, making him drop his knife in the process.

Is she insane?

"Do you really want to fight me? You'll regret it."

"......"

"See this shiny blade? It's coated with deadly poison. A mere scratch can kill. I don't want to use it, but if you push me, I won't hesitate."

The silver blade gleamed in the darkness. It was admirable that she had the courage to stand up to him despite the odds, but he had no desire for unnecessary fights. He retrieved his knife, which might have left fingerprints, and left. She wouldn’t have recognized him as Harrison, but she was an annoyingly persistent woman.

If his current target hadn’t been so significant, he might have considered dealing with her first.

Turning his attention away from the servant, Harrison’s rampage eventually led him to the leaders of the devil worshippers.

“I heard there was a commotion, so I came to see. It seems we all know each other.”

Count Palzgraff. Yes, I knew you were involved. I suspected you and your son all along.

His predatory instincts heightened, heart pounding with excitement. As he contemplated how to kill the count and how long to display their heads, he also began negotiating his escape.

Once he got out, his bombs and guns were ready. He could make any promises.

“I’m the only one in the police who suspects you. Because of your reputation. If I disappear, suspicion will fall directly on you. Even if you have allies in the police, it’ll cause a lot of trouble.”

Fall for it.

“But if you let me live, I’ll keep everything I’ve learned here a secret and stop investigating you. I’ll even cooperate from the inside. I’ll give you any information that comes up about you.”

Fall for it.

“I’ll remember you, Inspector Harrison.”

He fell for it.

At the count’s order, the devices restraining Harrison clattered to the floor. As he stood up, he suppressed a grin. So it was Count Palzgraff all along. It was strange that the viscount wasn’t here, but if the father was involved, the son must be too.

This was the perfect opportunity to exact justice. Count Palzgraff, armed with wealth and honor, was untouchable by the police even with evidence. If they took him in now, he’d be released on some pretext. 

So, he must die here. Even if the other cultists were spared, Count Palzgraff must die.

"Then, I will take my leave, Count. I will visit you often in the future."

"I will be waiting."

"Oh, and you should check that servant's wrist. He knows the guards' shift schedule, so leaving him be might be troublesome."

The words left before departing left the servant with a look of shock on his face, as if he thought he would be spared. A smirk escaped at his naivety.

Well, it wasn't impossible to take him along. After all, we did encounter each other during a murder. He saw the knife used in the killing and probably got a rough idea of my build. Keeping him alive wouldn't be beneficial.

As soon as Harrison exited the temple, he checked the bombs he had planted earlier. He had placed all the ones he brought from the police station, but they were too small to collapse the temple. They could, however, cause some damage. Just enough to scare the criminals inside into running out.

Harrison planned to capitalize on that moment. When they rushed out in panic from the explosion, he would shoot them. The Count, being the leader of the demon-worshiping cult, would likely be at the forefront. Finding the well-built Count among the first to emerge would be easy. It was disappointing that he might not be able to cut off his wrist, but given the target, just killing him would be satisfaction enough.

Hiding behind the bushes, Harrison observed the situation. Worshippers, who seemed to have come from nowhere, swarmed into the basement, indicating the ritual was about to begin. The number of people increased dramatically, so there was no way the servant would escape alive. It was fortunate that he could get rid of a nuisance by borrowing someone else's hand.

"Huh?"

Just as he was timing the detonation, Harrison witnessed a strange sight. The Count's son suddenly appeared and walked towards the temple entrance. Just as he had suspected, the son was involved too. But then, the son was blocked by a guard. What happened next was even stranger.

"Guide me. I don't have time for your nonsense."

As expected, he was blocked but showed no signs of panic. His small but clear voice pierced the night air, even overwhelming Harrison. The heavy air felt like a weight pressing on his shoulders, and the guard, who had been trying to block him, suddenly stopped.

"...I will guide you."

The guard, as if bewitched, changed his attitude and followed the Count's son into the basement.

What did I just see?

Harrison forgot to load his gun, blinking in confusion. Wasn't the Count's son part of the group? Why did the guard try to stop him? The sudden change in the guard's attitude was also bizarre. It was as if he was hypnotized.

"Gasp."

That wasn't the only surprising thing. While Harrison was trying to recall the Count's son's appearance, the servant, who should have been in the basement, suddenly appeared in the bushes across the entrance.

What’s going on? No one was there just a moment ago.

Since encountering them now wouldn't be beneficial, Harrison quickly hid behind a tree, feeling as if he had seen a ghost.

It wasn’t just the servant who appeared suddenly. A girl dressed similarly also dropped down not far away. The servant seemed too preoccupied with checking his friend's condition to notice Harrison. They hadn't passed through the temple entrance, yet they appeared over there.

Am I finally losing my mind?

As he stood there, half-dazed, a faint vibration rippled through the ground beneath his feet. It was so quiet that it could be mistaken for the sound of the wind, but the screams of people echoed from the temple entrance. What’s happening down there? He wanted to rush down immediately but his feet were frozen in place.

Before long, the Count's son reappeared, walking out gracefully just as he had entered. He exchanged words with the servant and then... they all disappeared together, including the servant and his friend.

"What... what is this?"

Harrison searched the area for their traces but couldn't find a single hair, no matter how hard he looked among the trees and bushes.

The Count's son had hypnotized the guard, then entered, moved the servant and his friend, came out, and disappeared with them all. If he wasn't going mad, this was the sequence of events.

Magic? But there were no rumors of the Count's son being a magician. It had been a long time since wizards disappeared from this world.

Carefully descending into the basement, Harrison was even more shocked. There wasn't a shadow of a person in the waiting room for sacrifices or the prayer room.

I definitely saw them with my own eyes, cramped into the iron cages, and I saw hundreds of demon worshippers entering through the entrance.

At first, he thought they were moved elsewhere like the servant. But whether the Count's son was a demon worshipper or not, it didn't add up. It's illogical to think they were killed in such a short time, but given the mysterious power he had witnessed, it didn't seem entirely impossible.

If they were indeed killed, did that include his father, the Count? Why would he kill them? An ordinary power struggle between father and son wouldn’t involve eliminating demon worshippers. With such numbers, it would be advantageous to keep and use them.

He knocked and moved the walls, hoping for a hidden passage, but found no small crevice that could conceal a passage.

"Could it be... punishment?"

The terrible screams echoing from below. No matter how he thought about it, it seemed like they were all killed. Whether it was rage over the murder of his benefactor or an unforgivable worship of demons, Harrison's job had been done for him. A powerful figure he had never expected to be on his side had taken action.

It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck from head to toe. In a world where justice had collapsed, someone else was pursuing true justice. The willingness to punish criminals, even to the extent of killing his own father. He had thought they were in league, but it turned out he was a warrior fighting for justice...

This was almost like a sign from God. A confirmation that he was right, that his path was just. By sending someone with such demonic power, it was a divine revelation. His heart swelled with indescribable joy.

The hall was spotless, without a trace of blood. Standing alone in the center, Harrison recalled a conversation he had overheard at the police station not long ago.

"There was a commotion at the Palzgraf estate?"

"Yes. They say the sprinkler system exploded during the young master's birthday party. Luckily, no one was hurt, but many people complained they were almost injured."

"How could a sprinkler system explode? They wouldn't have neglected maintenance."

"Who knows? There are also rumors that the Countess collapsed. Strangely, instead of being cared for at the estate, she was sent to a villa. Some say it's because she doesn’t get along with her son..."

"Enough, enough. Curiosity won’t do us any good. The Palzgraf family is not to be meddled with."

The Countess... It would be easy to approach her since she was alone in a villa. The conversation, which he had dismissed as idle gossip, now provided an unexpected opportunity for contemplation. Before considering him as an ally with the same goals, it was necessary to confirm. Above all, he needed to understand the nature of that demonic power.

Olivia had been in the garden since early morning. Until now, the gardener had picked and brought her beautiful flowers, but starting today, she planned to choose the flowers herself and place them next to Priscilla's bed. So that her lady could see them whenever she opened her eyes.

Humming a small tune, Olivia was plucking flowers one by one, holding them in her hand, when something cold touched her back. It didn't take long to realize it was the barrel of a gun.

"What's your name?"

A deep male voice. The flowers she had been happily picking a moment ago fell to the ground. Her fingertips trembled.

"O-Olivia…"

"Good, Olivia. I heard the lady of the Palzgraff family is here. It must be because of the sprinkler incident, right? You better tell the truth, or you know what will happen."

The cold barrel pressed harder against her back. She trembled in fear, unable to think about who this person was or why he was asking.

"I-I don't know anything. I was just following orders…"

"I know everything. The Countess ordered the sprinkler to explode, didn't she?"

"I don't know. She only told me to fill it with holy water from the temple. I only followed my orders…"

The thought that a bullet could tear through her back at any moment made her vision blur. Just moments ago, she had been cheerfully picking flowers, now she felt foolish. What will happen to my family if I die? They don't even have money to buy milk...

The barrel seemed to heat up, ready to fire. She could vaguely hear the click of the hammer being pulled back. Her mind went blank, her lips trembling. Olivia, who had always lived calmly, professionally, was now terrified of dying. Even if it made her look pathetic, she felt she could spit out anything to stay alive.

Why is this happening to me? Tears welled up in her eyes out of sheer frustration.

"Why holy water? It must have been hard to get."

"B-Because holy water is fatal to demons…"

"…Demons?"

"The lady believed the young master was possessed by a demon… But it was a misunderstanding. Although the young master collapsed when he was hit by the holy water, it was only because he was unwell. The next day, he was completely normal. If he were possessed, he would have been burned or something. But he was fine, without a single scratch."

"Hmm, so the Countess was convinced enough to send you to check."

"Yes, that's right…"

"A mother knows her child best, doesn't she?"

At those words, Harrison lightly struck Olivia on the back of her neck. After confirming she had passed out, he left the villa.

"Demons, huh…"

There's no such thing in this world. But they say both gods and demons hide in the smallest places. Just as he had always regarded demon worshippers as pathetic, he couldn't believe it, but after witnessing the strange sight from the Palzgraff young master, he needed to investigate.

Returning directly to the village of Lukebell, Harrison first obtained bullets filled with holy water. They were said to be made for people deeply religious to shoot at demons. The higher the priest's faith, the stronger the holy water's power. He had to pay almost the equivalent of a house for four premium holy water bullets.

The vendor said the bullets were made by the Pope himself, and wouldn't harm humans, only demons. Harrison barely resisted the urge to flip the table, suspecting a scam.

"Let's test it."

He loaded one of the holy water bullets into his gun, aimed at his foot, and pulled the trigger. There was a risk he might lose the use of his foot, but he didn't hesitate.

Bang. The bullet fired, but he felt no pain. The holy water bullet didn't harm humans after all, rolling harmlessly across the ground.

"Hmm… It might be more useful than I thought."

Satisfied, he holstered his gun and left the black market. A newspaper flew to his feet.

"Obituary: Count Palzgraff, beloved for his endless charity, killed in a carriage accident… As per his will, his body was cremated in private, attended only by his heir, the young count. The funeral, without the presence of his wife, saw a procession of mourners. The royal family expressed deep condolences, with the Crown Prince suggesting a state funeral, which the young count declined. The estate and title will be inherited by the young count."

A carriage accident? Harrison laughed. The body was probably burned in the basement. Is this another of your mysterious powers? The wind blew the newspaper away. Harrison fingered the bullets in his pocket.

If I shoot him, I'll get my answer. If he gets hurt, he's a mass-murdering impostor. If he's unscathed, he's a guardian of justice like me.

In the first case, I'll shoot him in the heart and kill him. In the latter, I'll join forces with him.

"Perfect."

Satisfied, Harrison walked away. His footsteps echoed off the cold stone floor, soon blending into the darkness.

(End of Volume 4. To be continued in Volume 5.)

series info // previous // next